Nothing Changes in Ikebukuro
by xGraciferx
Summary: My last vision of Shizuo Heiwajima was the most painful memory I retained. Four years ago, he looked at me with eyes so hurt, you would have thought I'd physically ripped his heart from his chest. And to be honest, I might as well have. ShizuoxOC, rated M for sexual content in future chapters.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Updated chapter as of 11/15/16 because I periodically become disappointed in the quality of my writing and try to rewrite to a higher standard. Adding new chapters to this story soon!_

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We had been close.

Before the gang violence. Before the legend of the Black Rider. Before the Slasher serial killings. Before the Dollars turned into a _movement_ bigger than anything Ikebukuro had ever seen.

My last vision of Shizuo Heiwajima was the most painful memory I retained. Four years ago, he gazed at me with eyes so anguished, you would have thought I'd physically ripped his heart from his chest. And to be entirely honest, I may as well have. Those pained eyes left a steadfast scar in their wake; a wound that even when no longer fresh, would never go another day without festering.

I first met the strongest man in Ikebukuro through Izaya when I was in my ninth year of school at Raijin Academy, and grew close to him through Tom and Shinra. All of us were in the same class, but I was a year younger than the four of them, having skipped a year of school earlier in junior high. However, it should be noted that my very first impression of the blonde was one of pure terror.

My family and I had just moved to Ikebukuro and here I was, finding it difficult to start over in a new town, at a new school, and make new friends. The well-known, dark-haired Izaya Orihara was actually the first to greet and welcome me to the city. We had met online, in an anonymous chat room filled with local users looking to make friends, and met up in person soon after, before the term began. Believe it or not, Izaya wasn't always the douchebag he acted like as an adult. He was my first friend, and the oldest one I had.

When he walked me into our classroom on the first day of class, a much taller blonde boy immediately jumped up from his desk upon recognizing the dark-haired boy.

 _"Izaya,"_ he growled and drew out the pronunciation of my new friend's name before he charged the doorway we stood in. In a state of sudden panic, I genuinely thought, _this is it, this is how I die._ What a _pathetic_ end it would have been for a naïve girl who had never cared about anything other than school. I'll never forget the blur of shaggy, bright blonde hair and the look of sheer hatred in the strange boy's eyes as my life flashed before my own.

Of course, Izaya effortlessly whisked me out of his path of destruction, but only before taking off back down the hallway, laughing and taunting his relentless pursuer. It all happened so fast that I could only assume what had just happened was some sort of fucked up game or inside joke, but in all manners of honesty, their level of commitment to the joke was intimidating as hell.

As I settled into my new life in the big city, I grew closer to Shizuo. Our teacher had me sitting right behind him in class. _Boy_ , was that a surprise no more than a couple minutes after that fiasco on the first day. I nearly pissed myself every time he so much as flinched for the rest of the day, terrified that at any moment, he would turn around and actually finish me off. As it turns out, he wasn't the brightest student. Nearly every day for the remainder of our public schooling, he would turn around in his chair to face me, completely lost, and asking under his breath for clarification and copying my notes. I guess I became his personal tutor of sorts, and he eventually accepted me into his group of friends. Tom, Shinra, and Shizuo would frequent my suburban home to "kidnap" me from my studies despite my protesting. After a while, I truthfully didn't object to being dragged away from my textbooks, but we had fallen into this cliché routine that had become somewhat of an inside joke. It wouldn't have been the same without me playing a little hard-to-get each time, causing them to drag me kicking and screaming (metaphorically, of course) along with them on their adventures. It was the first time I felt as though I actually belonged somewhere; a feeling not many are blessed to experience for even a fleeting moment. I wouldn't have traded that feeling for the world.

After spending more frequent time with him, it became apparent that Shizuo possessed an unusual amount of strength when he flew into a rage, normally only due to the taunting (or in some cases, just the presence) of Izaya. Many times, I'd seen him pull street signs out of concrete and heavy machinery from bolted walls in his overt desire to maim his rival. As a science geek, I was naturally interested in the fact that the he retained abnormal strength for his size. He was taller than the other boys, but no larger in muscle mass than the average teenager. Shinra and I were pleasantly confounded by the way his ability violated the fundamental laws of physics, and often traded theories about how his abnormal strength was even physically possible, much to Shizuo's annoyance. He didn't care to understand the explanation of is strength; only to hone it, in hopes that his frequent injuries would soon be a thing of the past.

I also eventually came to the understanding that Shizuo and Izaya had a rivalry of some sort, which dated further back than I cared to ask about. Not being able to comprehend their distaste for one another, I concluded that boys were more complicated than girls, and try as I may have to comprehend their actions, there existed no laws of science which could explain their peculiar behavior.

Before long, we started high school, and hormones started making everyone crazy. I admittedly caught myself drifting off during lecture, far more fascinated by the back of Shizuo's head than quadratic equations, and noticing his handsome features more and more often. In turn, I noticed his frequent glances in my direction, though he did his best to hide them. I couldn't help but hope and fantasize that he felt the same butterflies in his stomach when he thought about me.

It wasn't until after belligerent teasing via Shinra and Tom, as well as some haughty taunting courtesy of Izaya, that we finally acknowledged our feelings and entered into an exclusive relationship. I had just turned 15, whereas he had been 16 for a few months already. As long as I'd known him, he was never one to show much emotion, so it was cute and a little bit unexpected when he admitted his feelings for me. The way he blushed and adamantly avoided eye contact…It was quite a romantic moment; that mushy crap you really only see on TV. I think my straightforward response took him by surprise when I leaned over and pecked him innocently on the cheek that windy summer afternoon. We were an even more inseparable pair after that.

Albeit somewhat possessive and always disapproving of my continuous friendship with Izaya, we had a magnificent, passionate relationship. I continued to help him with his studies; I even did his homework for him when he was hospitalized for his occasional superhuman-strength-related injuries. He was full of spontaneity, which was something I think I craved because I was so serious, planning and mapping my life out at every chance I got. Living for the moment was something I would never have had the courage to do by myself.

The two of us also worked really well together sexually. Sure, our first time was sloppy, awkward, and virginal, and he constantly worried he would lose control of his strength at the height of sexual ecstasy and accidentally hurt me…But truthfully, I liked it a little primal and rough. Practice made perfect, and before long, we were jumping each others' bones at the most inconvenient of times, but that of course made things all the more kinky.

Now, at this point in the story, most people are thinking the same thing: Shizuo's short temper combined with his brain's inability to control his strength would likely guarantee an episode of dating violence at least once in a while. But you might be surprised to find out that he never once raised a hand to me. Yes, we had problems and arguments every now and then, as any healthy relationship should. And we were both stubborn as mules when we got into it. However, he tended to take his anger out on his immediate, lifeless surroundings instead, never swinging a fist or an inanimate object in my direction. Through it all, I never worried that he would physically injure me after our first day of school. I'd seen him at his best as well as his worst, and had the utmost trust in him.

I kept my academic spot atop our class, but our differences didn't start hitting me until I began applying to colleges. Shizuo had no intention of continuing his education—none of my friends really did. It wasn't a surprise for most of them, though I was somewhat shocked by Shinra's blatantly stubborn refusal to apply to college, instead planning on opening a black-market (for lack of a better word) surgical and medical practice similar to that of his father.

The best and worst day of my life was the day my acceptance letter came in the mail. I had been approved to travel abroad and study physics at the University of Texas at Austin, in the United States, on a full scholarship. I didn't come from a poor family, but college is never cheap for anyone. The full ride was nothing short of a miracle, and something I couldn't afford to pass up, financially or morally. My mistake was keeping it a secret from Shizuo for as long as I could.

Every morning that summer I woke up thinking, today is the day. I need to tell him today. But everyday held new adventures. It was such a refreshing and exciting summer, I never wanted it to end, and I never wanted to bog the mood down by dropping a bomb like oh, by the way, I'm going halfway around the world for the next four years. I don't know what I expected to happen. I was just putting off the inevitable, and clearly I still hadn't learned my lesson, considering I continued to put things off that stressed me out to this very day, like looking for a job in the professional adult world.

The night before my flight to America, Shizuo and I sat atop the roof of my family's house under the stars. I remember it all so clearly; I sat up looking out at the city skyline laid out like a colorful necklace on the horizon. He was lying back on the shingles, one hand behind his head and the other in mine as he gazed up at the constellations. And then he said it. For the first time in our relationship, he started talking about the future. Our future. He had just gotten a job as a bartender downtown, and he suggested moving into an apartment and starting a life together. He offered to support me while I went to college.

"I can pay the bills while you go to class at Tokyo U," tears filled my eyes at his affectionate words. It physically pained me to realize that his assumption implied that he trusted I would have told him if I was leaving. What sort of monster did that make me? I reached into my hoodie pocket with my free hand and gripped my acceptance letter tightly. It was crinkled, having been carried around all summer in my intent to tell him sooner. What did I think I would accomplish by waiting this long? "And later down the road, I'll make you my wife…That is, if you'll have me."

And that was it. I snatched my hand away from his and began sobbing uncontrollably as I covered my face in shame. I didn't deserve for this selfless, compassionate human being to desire to share his life with me.

"Michiko?" I felt him sit up and touch my face as he tried to pry my hands from my watery eyes, but to no avail. "I'm sorry, we don't have to rush anything until you're ready," his voice was taking a drastic, frantic turn as he tried to determine the cause of my sudden outburst and I didn't respond to his affectionate touch. Of course he jumped to blaming himself for my tears. "Don't cry—please, look at me, Michi—"

"I'm leaving," was all I managed to spit out between hysterical breaths. "I'm the most awful, deceitful bitch—"

"Calm down, Michi," he either didn't hear me, or wasn't taking my words seriously in my hysterical state. Although I couldn't see him with my face still buried in my hands, I felt the shingles shift as he repositioned himself on his knees in front of me and wrapped his arms around me. He knew how to calm me; when I was hysterical, he just held me. No words, just a tender embrace and some steady breathing. When my sniffling subsided after a moment, he leaned back, running one hand through my hair affectionately as he took one of my hands with the other, planting a reassuring kiss to my fingertips. "Tell me what's wrong."

I pulled the mess of an acceptance letter from my pocket with a shaky hand, and pushed it into his chest as I waited for the worst. He let go of my hand to unfold the crinkly paper, but I didn't hide behind my palms again. I let my hand drop beside me, but I didn't look at him. I couldn't look at him.

"This is…" I felt him lean back from my figure when the comforting warmth of his close proximity began to dwindle. I could picture the gears in his head turning in the silence that followed. For a moment, I recalled how elated I felt when I first ripped the manila envelope open and saw the word congratulations. It almost seemed unreal to me that a source of such happiness had quickly become a source of anxiety, and was now becoming a source of heartache. "University of…Michiko, you're not…"

"I am," I gulped as I choked on my words; figuratively, that is. But right now I wanted nothing more than to literally choke. I would have deserved it.

"But the term starts on Monday," his voice cracked, I could hear him suffering. I could hear his heart breaking. Almost immediately, I felt like the biggest piece of shit for avoiding meeting his gaze. I was the one doing this to him, the least I could do was look him sincerely in the eyes as I stabbed him through the chest.

"My flight is tomorrow," I turned my gaze to his face, and almost wished I hadn't. I had looked up just in time to see the hope drain from his lifeless eyes in the dim light of the moon. I had never seen Shizuo cry, but I knew him well enough to tell when he was holding back tears. And in an out-of-character sort of way, he didn't move to touch me. Shizuo's ego normally required reassurance; when he was suffering, he tended to pine for attention, to yearn for some sort of comfort. This behavior suggested he had given up, as if he already knew the ending to this story.

"I love you, Michiko," despite his passionate confession, the desperation in his eyes, which hadn't left mine since he looked up from my acceptance letter, told me everything I needed to know. "Does that mean nothing?"

I wanted desperately to reach out and touch him. I wanted to say so much more, but what good would it have done at this point? Any comfort I offered would only provide a sense of false hope. I didn't have it in me to do that to him. It would be better for both of us this way. "I'm so sorry, Shizuo."


	2. Reunions

_A/N: I'm here! And now that finals week is almost over, I hope to update this fic on a semi-regular basis. Working on really building a backstory here before getting into smutty goodness with Shizuo (I KNOW THAT'S THE ONLY REASON ANY OF YOU ARE HERE, DON'T LIE). Well, too bad! You'll just have to humor the shit out of me and wait! I promise I'll make it worth your time :3_

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 **Chapter 1: Reunions**

I gazed warily at the overcast sky as I stepped out of the airport. It was a musky August afternoon, the scent of ozone heavy in the air; an impending threat of afternoon storms. I observed my surroundings incredulously, as if it were my first time in the city. Nothing in Ikebukuro had changed. I could hear the same sounds of traffic and the same obscure murmur of conversation. The same hurried people pushed past each other with no concern for anyone but themselves. I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath as I suddenly felt overwhelmed by the nostalgia of being back here. I stood still, taking everything in, knowing I might not feel the same way in a couple months. Some are disgusted by the impersonal, fast-paced nature of city life. But after four years, it was a sentimental sight to behold.

God, it felt good to be home.

"Michi!" All of a sudden, I was tackled from behind in an enormous hug. The force of impact would have been enough to knock me off my feet had I been completely unprepared, but it only caused me to stumble a bit before I regained my footing.

"Shinra!" I exclaimed excitedly as I hugged my old friend back. I was somewhat surprised he had spotted me in the crowd before I had spotted him, the white fabric of his lab coat gleaming brilliantly, even on this cloudy day.

"It feels like it's been ages," Shinra released my figure but held both of my hands in his like an excited child. He was beaming; just as quirky and enthusiastic as he had been in high school. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Right back at you," I spoke rhetorically in an amused tone as I looked him up and down before deciding to tease him. "Still shamelessly sporting your lab coat on the streets, huh?"

Shinra only smirked. "Unlike you, I take pride in my scientific research. _You_ should be the one boasting the lab coat here, you're the scholarly _genius_ , you college graduate, you."

I scoffed. "You know I don't like that word." Leave it to Shinra to say something that's _always_ pissed me off within the first five minutes of being reunited, even if I _did_ sort of ask for it by teasing him first. The truth was, I was never blessed with the same sheer natural talent and intelligence he had, let alone the amazing exposure and training he received from his father since he was a small child. My entire life, I worked hard for everything I had achieved. "If I made it this far, then hell, anyone can. I'm no more 'genius' than anyone else standing on this sidewalk."

The last four years had been a surreal, out-of-body experience. I had only been home for a few minutes, and my time in America already seemed like it had been one long dream. I was finally waking up and stretching my arms on the streets of Ikebukuro.

"Yeah, well," Shinra yanked my luggage from my hands; he always intent on proving himself by performing the more many obligations, despite his scrawny appearance. "Even if everyone _does_ have the same chance at success, you are far more motivated than most."

"You flatter me, Shinra," I followed him down the busy pavement toward the parking garage. It was strange; Shizuo had always said the same thing to me. That my motivation was unlike anything else. He was my biggest supporter as I grew bolder with my academic ambition in high school. I don't think I would have had the courage to apply to college without his constant encouragement. I _hated_ that I subconsciously continued to think so much about him to this day. "I don't think the reason behind my accomplishment is nearly that moving, though; I think I just have an unhealthy obsession with being a student."

"As long as _you_ understand that only a true masochist would apply to grad school," he teased belligerently.

"Still less intimidating than the real world," I replied with a smile, however, I knew he was right. Despite my thirst for knowledge, I had grown completely miserable in the academic environment, so why then was I so intent upon continuing? Sometimes I felt as though this nearly overwhelming amount of despair was justified, something I truly deserved for the way I treated Shizuo before my departure. Like it was the only intuitive, repressed way I knew how to punish myself.

"You're only digging yourself into a deeper hole, Michi," Shinra warned in a singsong voice as he smiled back at me. "The higher your education, the more will be expected of you when you finally do get a real job."

"I don't mind being blissfully ignorant for the time being," I assured as we approached his car and he hauled my luggage into the trunk. I had clearly grown content in my academic misery. If I was being completely honest, I didn't care about the advantages of higher education. Being accepted into a grad program just meant a little more time to put off being a real adult, getting a real job, and becoming self-sufficient once and for all. Starting a nine-to-five career, as they call it, was a daunting rite of passage I would have done anything to procrastinate. Sometimes I wondered of my fear of tackling this new chapter in my life, or rather, to put it more bluntly, my fear of the unknown, would have been so prevalent if I still had Shizuo standing by my side. I quickly shook of the image of my ex-lover once again.

Once Shinra unlocked the car, I opened the front door and buckled myself into the passenger seat. It smelled like antibiotics and medical supplies, with a hint of the sharp, coppery tinge found exclusively in blood. Like a hospital on wheels. Shinra's own little ambulance.

"Celty is looking forward to seeing you," Shinra changed the subject as he started the car and pulled out of the parking garage. The pure adoration in his voice was really something to behold.

"I've missed her so much," I recalled my first meeting with the object of Shinra's blatant affection. She was timid at first, and somewhat reluctant to make human connections (and honestly, who could have blamed her for that), but I think she was relieved by the presence of another woman. Shinra was just an oblivious teenager at the time, and his father didn't want her for much more than experimentation. Maybe I'm going out on a limb here, but I think she was grateful to have a real friend, and not someone with ulterior motives (not to criticize Shinra, but he always had a little more than friendship on his mind, even if his intentions were pure and well-meant).

"Did she tell you we're getting married?" He was so animated, so proud. I was admittedly a little surprised when Celty told me. She had always retained a sense of indifference toward Shinra's straightforward feelings for her, so naturally her confession of reciprocation of those tender emotions was a complete shock to me. Mostly I was astonished that the nature of whatever she was, this _entity_ , was allowing her to feel such passion, for a different species, nonetheless. It was almost as if spending so much time around humans had made her _more_ human over the years.

"She asked me to be her maid of honor—in spirit, of course." I couldn't imagine a large wedding ceremony with a headless bride. I was sure they would hold a private celebration, if any ceremonial celebration at all. I had kept in close contact with Celty for the last four years. Being headless and therefore unable to express herself via audible speech, she often found solace chatting online through textual means. She had talked me through many sleepless nights during my time as an undergraduate, keeping me sane and from offing myself when the stress of final exams week became too much. She also kept me in the Ikebukuro loop, updating me on the city's strange happenings over the years without jabbing at the subject of Shizuo too much. Truthfully, I considered her my best friend now.

When I told her I was coming back to Ikebukuro after my Bachelor's for grad school at Tokyo University, she spoke with Shinra and the two of them offered me a place to crash with them until the end of the week, when I could sign my lease and move into my new apartment. Truthfully, it probably would have made more sense for me to move to a more centralized area in Tokyo, closer to Tokyo U, but I had a history in Ikebukuro and longed to be close to my old friends. Not to mention, rent was much cheaper here.

Ikebukuro wasn't too far, but the downtown traffic was atrocious as ever. I didn't mind it so much though; Shinra and I were having a blast catching up. I told him about the research I performed with my favorite professor in America. Most people just wanted to know about how America itself was, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, I was used to those questions by now. It was just really nice, explaining my research to somebody who could keep up with the scientific logic of it, someone who seemed genuinely interested in the procedures and results of the experimentation we did. My parents were always asking what I was working on in school, and I knew they meant well, but I also knew they didn't exactly follow my words when I got down to the nitty gritty details of it. As my thoughts drifted to my parents, I made a mental note to call them. They had since left the big city and moved back to the countryside, and at some point, I needed to take a train to visit them.

We finally reached Shinra's apartment complex, and as we parked and ascended toward his humble abode, I felt like I was home again.

As soon as Shinra unlocked the door and gestured for me to enter first, a cell phone screen was shoved into my face.

 **«MICHI~!»** Shinra's dullahan fiancée threw her arms around my neck.

"Celty!" I hugged her back tightly. "You look great. Jeez, I missed you."

She abruptly released me to type furiously on her smartphone before turning the screen back to me. **«I missed you too. You must be exhausted from traveling!»** She then took my hand and led me down the short hall to the small living room/kitchen combination as Shinra deposited my suitcase in the guest bedroom. Celty plopped down with me on the living room couch before typing on her phone again.

"Would you like some tea, Michi?" Shinra called from down the hall as he moved to join us in the living room.

"Water's fine, thank you, though," I responded as he retrieved glassware from the kitchen cabinets.

 **«Are you excited to be home? Do you miss America? You have to tell me EVERYTHING!»** Celty's phone screen was pointed toward me once again.

I laughed. "I was getting a little sick of America. It's difficult to miss a place that's associated with a ridiculous amount of stress...I am incredibly happy to be back in Ikebukuro, though."

"Tom asked when you were coming back to town," Shinra joined us, plopping onto the floor in front of the couch, on the other side of the short coffee table after handing me my glass of water. I took a careful sip as I momentarily reminisced the relationship with my old friend. Tom had always been somewhat of a brotherly figure to me. He was genuine, calming, someone Shizuo used to confide in when we had our own problems, his tranquil nature always seemed to rub off on him when he had flown into a rage. Realizing where my thoughts had drifted, I silently cursed myself for thinking of Shizuo again and immediately willed myself to think of something else. Anything else. "I told him we could meet for dinner in an hour if you—"

"I'd love to," I interrupted, perhaps a bit too eagerly in my attempt to clear my thoughts. I had, unfortunately, fallen out of contact with Tom since my departure from Japan, so a reunion was definitely in order, and catching up with another old friend would hopefully distract me from the thoughts of my blonde ex, which were now more pertinent than ever.

 **«I have to work tonight...»** Celty's body language screamed disappointment.

"I _promise_ , we'll have an afternoon for just you and me this week," I gripped Celty's hand, grinning at her. And despite not having seen her in four years, as she squeezed my hand back affectionately, I could feel that if she had a face, my words would have elicited a grin from her as well. "I'm not going anywhere again for quite a while, anyway."

"Shizuo was asking about you too—" In the instant he-who-must-not-be-named was mentioned, Celty's long leg launched over the coffee table and made loud contact with Shinra's chest as he toppled over himself. I about choked on my mouthful of water as she tackled him, typing savagely on her cell phone before gripping the chest of Shinra's lab coat and shoving the screen so close to his face he probably couldn't read what I could only assume were accusatory, threatening words.

"I'm sorry, honey," Shinra whined as he reached for his glasses, which had flown off his face as soon as he'd been kicked. "You're right, I did deserve that."

Celty released him and jumped back on the couch next to me, patting my back as I tried to catch my breath. **«Are you okay? Feel free to beat the shit out of him whenever he says anything inconsiderate like that.»**

"I'm fine," I smiled weakly, knowing my expression betrayed my words, but hoping Celty would drop it for now.

"Jesus, Celty, that _hurt_ ," Shinra clutched his injured chest. Celty crossed her arms and legs. While the violence may have been a little uncalled for, it was comforting to know that I had a best friend who was looking out for me carefully, so much so that she would scold and smack her own fiancé for me. "I'm _very_ sorry to you too, Michiko." Shinra bowed his head as he spoke sincerely. He always _had_ been oblivious. I wouldn't have taken offense to his words anyway, but I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

"It's okay, I'm okay," although I couldn't exactly tell if I was. He had been _asking_ about me? I could only assume he was still friendly with Tom, his oldest and dearest friend, so he had probably been told I was coming back to town. I didn't know whether to be flattered or disconcerted. But I knew how I _wanted_ to feel, and as a wise man once said, _fake it 'til you feel it_. "It's fine, all that stuff happened so long ago, I can hardly remember it."

Celty turned her attention back to me wordlessly. If she had a face, she would have been raising one eyebrow dubiously at me. She knew I was lying, however, she seemed to hear my nonverbal plea to change the subject.

We continued to reminisce for an hour or so. I jokingly told them all about how college is like riding a bike...Except the bike is on fire and you're on fire and everything else is on fire and you're in hell. As much as I loved my research and my area of expertise, the academic life was always extremely stressful. However, the accomplished feeling I would get after acing an exam or term paper was unlike _anything_ else. Well worth the stressful feeling. However, every day, I still wondered what it would have been like with Shizuo's support. For the last four years, he was the first thing I thought about when I woke up, and the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep, but never had I thought so clearly and frequently of the man since I'd seen him on a daily basis. I suppose it was to be expected. I was, after all, just returning to the city we had quite a bit of history in together, and yet...All I wanted was relief from the constant barrage of memories that clouded my train of thought.

The way we left things felt unfinished. My apology to him that night four years ago seemed to siphon the last bit of expectation that colored his face, and when he realized I had nothing else to say, he rose back up and left me alone on the roof without another word. He didn't come to the airport to say goodbye the next day. And he didn't contact me even once while I was gone. I think we were both just too scared to say out loud that it was really over. Honestly, any kind of closure might have helped me in moving on, but instead, I constantly considered what might have been. I'd had time to consider almost every other possibility, including that which involved ending my own life, where I wondered if he would even have cared enough to attend my funeral.

But all of that was behind me now. I'd spent so long wondering, crying, dreaming, and after awhile, I learned to accept what had happened. It was time to get serious—I promised myself that I wouldn't get involved with _any_ man when I came back to Ikebukuro, least of all Shizuo. I was gonna be dedicated to my studies, busy researching for my dissertation, and looking into internship options. I would be lucky if I got time to sleep, let alone date. And I wouldn't be caught _dead_ pining over the ex I hadn't had any contact with in four years. For now, I thought it best to immerse myself in school and distract my busy, emotional mind with some good, old-fashioned academic stress.

Truly, nothing in Ikebukuro had changed.


	3. Russia Sushi

_A/N: You guys will be glad to know that our favorite someone makes an appearance in this chapter! But no smut yet! *wags finger at readers* Your NSFW scenes will happen soon enough. For now, enjoy! I await your impatient personal messages about how I wait way too long to cut to the chase._

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 **Chapter 2: Russia Sushi**

Celty had left Shinra and I to dinner by ourselves, so we departed the urban apartment a little early, with the intention of meeting Tom at Russia Sushi. Shinra suggested driving, but I insisted we trek on foot, seeing as our destination wasn't _too_ far, and I hadn't taken a good walk around the city in quite awhile. The twilit atmosphere, fresh with the sounds of rush hour traffic and the awe-filled gasping of foreign tourists, was refreshing. Have I mentioned how good it felt to be home?

The entire walk, I rushed a couple paces ahead of Shinra, far more excited by the sights of the city than he. Of course, he had been surrounded by this incredible ambience for the last four years, and I hadn't. I don't think my goofy, ear-to-ear grin left my face the entire journey down the main street. I kept pointing out shops, restaurants, and hang outs that I recognized, somewhat amazed and unquestionably elated that they hadn't been replaced or even remodeled. This only furthered my confidence in the suspicion that the city really _hadn't_ changed at all. For once, I was the one running about, acting quirky, and making a complete fool of myself, while Shinra stood back with his hands in his pockets, humoring my overenthusiastic mood as though I was a hyperactive child and he was my babysitter, making sure I didn't accidentally hurt myself in my excited state. I didn't really care how silly I looked though, this was the most invigorated I'd felt in years, and I wasn't about to let this incredible burst of energy pass me up.

As we approached Russia sushi, which was, unsurprisingly, in the same place I left it four years ago, I immediately recognized Tom across the moderately busy street. The sight of his unmistakably tall figure and shaggy, dark dreadlocks, complete with his three piece suit, easily gave him away. He was chatting with Simon, another familiar face from my past, as he attempted to advertise the restaurant he'd dedicated his life to.

"Tom!" I squealed with such volume that several passersby cringed and jumped at my sudden outburst. He jolted around at the sound of his name, grinning when he adjusted his glasses and his gaze met mine. I took off running for him, pushing through the bodies that crowded the sidewalk as I did so. I was so excited and driven by the butterflies in my stomach, I didn't realized that running into the middle of the street was probably not the best idea until Shinra started shouting after me and worry clouded Tom's handsome features as his eyes followed me. However, by pure fate, the road was clear in that moment. I still figured it wouldn't stop Tom from scolding me like the big brother he was.

"Michi," he said my name with relief as he caught me in his arms and spun me around in a dramatic reunion hug. "Fuck, I missed you." He set me down on the pavement, but didn't let go of me just yet. He smelled like cigarettes and bad decisions. I could only wonder what line of work he was in these days.

"I missed you too, Tom," I nuzzled into his chest and squeezed his body tighter. What he smelled like didn't matter. He would always be the big brother I never had, because despite falling out of contact, he greeted me with the same familiarity we had four years ago.

He then abruptly gripped my shoulders and pushed me away from him at arm's length. I looked at him expectantly, and he narrowed his eyes at me. Told you this was coming. "Don't you _dare_ scare me like that ever again, though."

"I'm sorry, Tom," I pouted, and his harsh expression softened. I still knew how to manipulate this big softie. I wrapped my arms around his body and buried my face in his chest again, not having had enough of his tender embrace just yet.

"What the hell, Michiko?!" Shinra finally caught up to me, panting hard and completely out of breath, having taken the long way around the intersection via the safety of the crosswalk. "You can't just take off into the middle of the street like that...I don't know what kind of habits you picked up in America, but that one will get you killed."

"I took care of the scolding already, Shinra," Tom assured as he continued to humor my ecstatic reaction to seeing him again and hugged me back. When I finally pried my face away from the chest of his suit jacket, a large hand rested itself on my head and ruffled my hair.

"Would you look at that," Simon's thick Russian accent sounded from directly behind me. I turned around to face him as he grinned; a genuine grin. For a rather large and somewhat intimidating man, Simon always did display the most gentle and comforting expressions. That's not to say he couldn't hold his own against the tougher gangs in town, but that was a side of himself he only showed on occasion, and only if a peaceful alternative was completely out of the question. "Little Michi's all grown up!"

"Sure am," I replied, returning his elated expression as Shinra and Tom greeted one another. I had to laugh at the way Simon still treated me like a child. I couldn't blame him though; I was acting pretty childish today.

"Dinner is on house tonight," he reached into his back pocket and revealed a free sushi coupon. He extended the colorful slip of paper in my direction, but out of respect for his business, I didn't think I could bring myself to accept the charitable gift. Despite Simon's kindhearted demeanor, giving away free food was very out-of-character; I never thought he'd want to be caught dead giving handouts until now.

I shook my head and motioned for him to keep the coupon. "Oh, Simon, that's very kind, but—"

"I will hear no excuses," he insistently pushed the coupon into my hands. "You pay me for sushi next time, and all times after that. Tonight, welcome back to Ikebukuro."

I grinned again, realizing he was not going to _allow_ me to pay, and gave him a huge hug. "Well, you can count on me coming back and spending all of my money here in the future."

When I released Simon, Shinra placed a hand on my shoulder from behind, indicating that he and Tom were ready to enter the restaurant. Simon motioned us inside, where we were quickly seated in a small booth on the wall. I slid into one side first, Shinra slipping beside me and Tom sitting across from the two of us. I had to be honest; American sushi restaurants would never be able to match up to Russia Sushi. I was incredibly excited to order my favorite dish here.

Our waiter took our orders and as we waited for our food, we went through the usual motions, Tom insisting that I explain my time abroad in complete detail. I figured it would be this way for awhile; every old friend I reconnected with asking about America. And I was completely okay with this. In return, Tom caught me up with everything he'd experienced after high school, describing his reputation as one of the most well-known debt collectors in the city. It definitely explained his appearance now; he looked sharp and business-like, but was clearly careful that his appearance didn't give him away as being too polite or formal. The evening was going well, it was even enjoyable...That is, until the worst possible incident ensued.

It all started with the sounding of an all-too familiar deep voice.

"There you are, Tom!" I froze intuitively as the voice resonated within me. It took a split second or so to register before my heart rate doubled and my face started heating up. I felt myself shrink into the booth cushions, instinctually trying to make myself as small and unnoticeable as humanly possible.

"Oh, hey, Shizuo!" Tom greeted cheerfully, waving the man over. He must have forgotten my history with him, but thankfully Shinra had not. Noticing my shift in comfort, he grabbed my hand.

"Are you okay?" He asked under his breath so as not to attract Tom's attention, looking authentically concerned.

"I..." Zoning out for a moment, I almost lost myself to panic mode. The seconds were ticking like the footsteps that fast approached our table as I tried to compose myself for the inevitable altercation. This couldn't be happening. With my stomach doing backflips, I all of a sudden did not feel very hungry for sushi anymore. I responded truthfully: "I don't know."

As the strongest man in Ikebukuro reached our table, Shinra released my hand, but in an effort to console, he shot one more reassuring glance at me, the look in his eyes saying he would be right here with me no matter what. As Tom exchanged a few words of friendly banter with Shizuo remaining standing at the edge of our booth, I looked down and fixated my attention on the surface of the table, in its details and craftsmanship. I just needed something to focus on, something to ground me here in reality. I bit my lower lip and listened. The roughness of his voice indicated years of chain smoking, but it was suave, edgy, sexy. I hadn't the courage to look at him just yet, but if he looked half as good as he sounded, I'm sure he could have been fucking any girl in Ikebukuro that he wanted. Though I cared not to imagine such a scenario.

"Shinra," he greeted, and out of my peripheral vision, I caught the motion of a responsive nod, most likely accompanied by a smile like the polite guy he was. The next moment was awkward, to say the ery least. I didn't have to look at him to know his gaze had turned to study the third, not-immediately-recognizable figure sitting with his two friends.

" _Michiko?_ " Shizuo said next in disbelief; although it was more of a statement than a question in and of itself. Almost as if he was trying to convince himself that I was actually here, and not some figment of his imagination. At the acknowledgement of my name, I tried not to be rude. I wasn't the same coward who couldn't meet his eyes four years ago; I had changed. I could do this. I looked up and met his gaze, attempting to look more confident than I actually felt, and probably failing. I even, for the sake of pleasantries, offered a small smile. He looked great; I daresay handsome. But he did not return my expression; he only stared back at me, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide, as though he worried I might disappear at any moment. The seconds that followed could almost be described as intimate. God, he was attractive. He had a more well-defined jawline than he did when he was a teenager, and broader shoulders. I noticed the dark roots on his scalp; he needed to touch up the blonde in his hair. I would say I missed him, but I don't think that statement would have been very fair.

"Shizuo," his name was all I could bring myself to utter in response. But the utterance in itself seemed to snap him out of his trancelike daze. He closed his mouth and whet his lips before breaking eye contact as he closed his eyes, sighing and reaching into his back pocket for a cigarette and lighter. Did my presence really stress him out that much? Our waiter approached and looked like he wanted to tell him not to smoke in the restaurant, but realizing immediately that he would be giving an order to the strongest man in Ikebukuro, he opted to avoid such a confrontation and exited through the front door of the restaurant, probably to tell Simon.

"I hired Shizuo as my personal bodyguard not long ago," Tom explained, breaking the silence and sounding a little taken aback by the awkward, tense shift in atmosphere. Also a little embarrassed that our romantic history had slipped his mind until that very moment. I was still a little shaken by the intensity of the moment we had just shared, and slightly offended by Shizuo's eagerness to end it so quickly.

"Bartending not working out for you anymore, huh?" Shinra spoke, assisting his friend in changing the subject.

"Shizuo," Simon's booming, intimidating voice echoed in the small restaurant before Shizuo could answer the question. He approached the blonde with our skinnier waiter peeking timidly from behind Simon's larger stature. He was twice Shizuo's size, but barely able to match his strength depending on the day. This, however, did not stop the foreign man from confronting Shizuo. "You cannot smoke in here. You know this."

"Like hell I can't," Shizuo growled in a warning tone, not even bothering to open his eyes as he took a long drag and puffed a breath of smoke into the clean restaurant air. Simon didn't look pleased at all by his response, cracking his knuckles threateningly before Tom realized what was about to happen.

"Step outside, Shizuo," Tom took it upon himself to diffuse the situation, still calm and collected as Simon glared unforgivingly at the offender in his restaurant. "I'll go with you if you'd like—"

" _No_ thank you," Shizuo cut him off quickly but turned around, following Tom's order. He walked right past Simon and waved carelessly over his own shoulder. "I'd rather be alone for awhile."

I could guess why. Although I wanted _dearly_ to study his backside as he departed, I looked down at the table again and resisted the urge to look at his handsome figure any longer. My first day back in the city and I'm already checking him out? What a joke.

"Well, he's in a great mood," Tom commented sarcastically and rolled his eyes as Simon wandered away. I felt incredibly awkward, but I could only hope that neither Tom nor Shinra would acknowledge the elephant in the room that was the tension between Shizuo and I. I opted to whip out my smartphone and let Celty know what had just happened.

 **«Shizuo showed up.»**

 **«Ugh, I KNEW Tom being there would mean he'd make an appearance. Are you okay? Did something happen?»**

 **«Tell you about it later. I still feel really flustered. I just wanted you to know...»**

 **«Okay bby, just know I'm always here for you. You know I'd kick anyone's ass in this city for you.** **»**

I cracked a half-smile at Celty's heartfelt texts; she knew how to cheer me up. Shinra was a lucky guy, and I would be sure to let him know that at a more appropriate time. Still feeling sick to my stomach, I called our waiter back to our table to request my food in a to-go box. He glanced cautiously around the restaurant perimeter as he moved, making sure that Shizuo was nowhere to be found. Shinra and Tom whined that I should eat with them, but I decided to lie, explaining that the plane ride in addition to the jet-lag was making me feel queasy, and I assured them that the leftovers would not go to waste.

I sat with them as they ate, doing my best to return to normal behavior, although I kept glancing timidly over my shoulder each time the front door opened, terrified that at any moment, I would see Shizuo returning to the restaurant and I would have to suppress another anxiety attack. But to my relief, he never did, and it became a little easier to converse normally with my friends again. Despite my insistence that such was not the case, I knew that somewhere deep, _deep_ down, in the darkest recesses of my most repressed desires, I fantasized that coming home, I would fall into Shizuo's loving arms and we'd live happily ever after. Like I said though, I would never have admitted it at the time. Perhaps because I was ashamed of considering such an outlandish scenario.

As I reflected on the way seeing each other for the first time in four years had played out, I was disappointed in myself for ogling him the entire time. I convinced myself that the next time I ran into the strongest man in Ikebukuro, I would show no weakness. By all means, he would see how much I'd grown while I was away, whether he wanted to or not.


	4. Getting Settled

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I do appreciate your kind words! In response to Kibalover3029, I do try to be as descriptive as possible in my writing, although I often feel it's more of a curse than a talent D: thank you nonetheless! I'm glad you don't get bored reading my narrative writing ^o^ I normally try to hit 2.5K—3K words per chapter, but this one is a little on the short side. Sorry for that! I'll try and upload chapter 4 sooner to make up for it._

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Getting Settled**

The next few days passed uneventfully, save for catching up with Celty. It was strange though; having chatted with her online for so long, I had almost forgotten she had no audible voice of her own. Occasionally, it felt like I was having a conversation with myself, as I was the only one who could respond verbally. I didn't run into Shizuo again, much to my relief, although I didn't get out much in the following days, and he was probably avoiding me like the plague anyway.

I contacted my parents, who were happy to hear I had made it to Tokyo safely, and insistent upon a visit in the near future. I assured them that I would do my best to set a weekend aside to visit them, although I warned that I would likely be neck deep in my studies the entire time. They would hold me to that promise, and probably continue to pester me about visiting for as long as I put it off. They asked if I had reconnected with Izaya yet. I had wondered if they would push me in his direction when I came back or just let the whole thing go, but such curiosity indicated hopefulness on their part that I would reconnect with him. It's not that my parents didn't like Shizuo; they seemed to think he was more than suitable for their daughter when we were together, but they were always partial toward Izaya, and I could never figure out why. Perhaps it was his charming nature, combined with Shizuo's nervousness around the parents of somebody he cared so much for. Either way, it was easy to tell that they hoped I would enter into some sort of romantic relationship with him now that I'd returned to Tokyo. I didn't want to talk about relationships or romance, so I opted to change the direction of conversation almost immediately when he came up.

When my move-in date arrived, Celty and Shinra helped me with the moving process. My place was about a 15-minute walk from their apartment, and a 20-minute bike ride from the university. With any luck, I wouldn't need to invest in a car for as long as I was in Tokyo U's doctorate program. My new abode was a small, cozy one-bedroom apartment with a living room connected to a tiny kitchen. I had sparse amounts of furniture set up, promising myself I would do a bit more decorating when I had sufficient time and money to dedicate. In any case, I hadn't much time to spend in my new place, what with my classes taking up all of my free time.

As grad classes started up, they were, unsurprisingly, extremely stressful. I was only taking two classes and I already felt overwhelmed after the first week. Maybe I was in over my head. Then again, if I had a dollar for every time that thought had crossed my mind when I was an undergrad, I would be a millionaire. My professors were hard to please, and although my educational background in America intrigued them, they told me they expected great things from me. I always hated hearing those words from an academic higher-up. The threat of disappointing my professors would keep me up at night.

Additionally, I had been getting a head start on applying to internships, and so far, I had only heard back from my alma mater, now known alternatively as Raira Academy. It was not field laboratory work, but surely something to consider, especially due to the generous compensation the position offered. I had never thought seriously of teaching as a career, and with no background in any kind of tutoring on my academic resume, I was a little surprised I was actually being considered for the educational position. However, I was beginning to think it might be worth my time to see if I had the makings of a good teacher within me, and had set up an interview for the following week.

On this particular day, I was feeling incredibly stressed. After my quantum mechanics class, I had ridden my bike to a remote park in hopes that I'd be able to study peacefully before I had to get to my electrodynamics laboratory.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I leaned back and stretched in an attempt to take a short break from calibrating the inflection points of titration curves. Today was just one of _those_ days. I just wasn't _getting_ anything out of my studies. I leaned further back and caught myself. I sat in the shade of a large oak in the moderately busy park. The grass was soft under the palms of my hands and the sunlight peeked in little thin strips through the tree leaves. A gentle breeze blew through the city clearing, giving the illusion that it wasn't nearly as hot as the outdoor thermometers read.

"Well, well, if it isn't my dear little Michi," my eyes shot open when a familiar, playful voice pulled me from my thoughts. He leaned directly over me while smirking, blocking the warm caress of my strips of sunlight with his hands casually inserted into his pockets. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the light and identify exactly who disturbed my meditation. The years had been kind to him; he didn't look a day older than when I had left town.

"Izaya!" I exclaimed as I scrambled to my feet.

The tall, dark-haired man smiled amusedly at my frantic movements in response to a friend I hadn't seen in years, keeping his calm composure he'd become known so well for, despite my obvious excitement. "I had heard talk you were back in—"

"Cut the small talk and come here, you asshole," I interrupted as I crashed into his chest and flung my arms around his torso tightly. I felt his arms rest gently around my figure in response. "Don't think you can just nonchalantly approach me in public when we haven't seen each other in _years_ without greeting me properly."

"I missed you, Michiko," Izaya chuckled, refusing to let go of my body despite his devil-may-care attitude. His voice had a curve to it that told me he was smiling and clearly flattered by my enthusiasm even if his aloof demeanor betrayed it.

"I missed you too, Izaya," another beautiful wave of nostalgia hit me as I embraced my old friend. For a moment, it almost felt like I had never left the city. Genuine moments like these were rare with Izaya, so I savored it all the more. After a couple moments and another gentle breeze, I released his body and stepped back. "I've been here for a week, though. How have we just so happened to miss each other up until now?"

"Believe it or not, I don't live in Ikebukuro any longer, I only come to this part of town on occasion," this came as quite a surprise to me. So my next question should have been predictable.

"Why, dare I ask, are you hear today?" I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing ulterior motives were at play as I stepped further back and leaned on the large trunk of the shady tree.

"I came to see somebody," he explained, tilting his head as he looked me dead in the eyes, his signature smirk returning to his face as he closed the distance between us with one long stride. "And now I have."

His close proximity was almost intimidating; although I felt he was just trying to get a rise out of me. It was slightly uncomfortable with the tree behind me; not physically, but mentally, as I felt I had no way to back casually away to put a more comfortable distance between us. I raised my eyebrow at his implications in an attempt to look more confident than I felt. However, right when I thought I was going to snap and push him away, he turned around and with one swift leap, latched himself to one of the branches of the tree. He swung playfully around from branch to branch. This was typical Izaya behavior. When he was bored with a conversation, he would start playing on his surroundings like a child. I sighed and watched my friend incredulously for a moment. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or offended by the sudden shift of mood. He could be so charming and genuine, or intense and intimidating, but then immediately kill whatever atmosphere he had built up by asking like this. However, I can't say I had the energy to be annoyed with him, so I figured now was as good a time as any to pack up and head back to the university. I turned away from his swinging figure to gather my notebooks and hand-drawn graphs, which I had dropped into a careless pile when he had surprised me.

"Say, Michi," he spoke casually as he dropped from the tree with a _thud_ but his tone didn't fool me; I could tell Izaya was almost offended that I hadn't gotten annoyed with him, and was now grasping at straws to regain my attention. "Now that you've been legal for a few years, let me take you out for a drink this evening."

"Planning on getting me drunk and taking advantage of me?" I teased, although I was only half-joking. It didn't seem like a totally implausible scenario.

"I'm hurt you would even suggest that," Izaya pouted, clutching his chest playfully and teasing me right back.

"I may have been legal here for the last four years, but you forget I've been in America," Izaya cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion, so I continued with my explanation. "The legal drinking age in the U.S. is 21. I haven't even been drinking for two years so you'll have to forgive me if my alcohol tolerance isn't that of a normal 22-year-old Japanese woman."

"Ah, Michi, you were always such a good girl," he grinned at my modesty. "Americans are notorious for wild college parties and underage drinking. I'm not surprised you sat at home with your nose buried in textbooks while your classmates got shitfaced."

"Well, you're not wrong," as an introvert, I hadn't the social energy to party regularly, but that's not to say I had _never_ partaken. "But some of my college stories may surprise you."

"East Side, 9PM," Izaya smirked again and winked as he pointed at me. "Don't be late."


	5. Confrontation

_A/N: Appreciate all the patience up to this point. This chapter contains more passive-aggressive action between Shizuo and Michiko! Don't worry, I promise all this sexual tension will boil over very soon (;_

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Confrontation**

When I arrived at the bar, Izaya was settled in a casual position leaning on the bar top with his hands in his jacket pockets and chatting with the bartender as he waited for me. East Side had an American-themed atmosphere; Izaya had likely chosen this location on purpose to poke a little fun at me. As I approached his figure, I noticed two full pints of beer sitting in front of him. It was strange; I never would have taken him for a beer-drinker. Probably because the majority of my exposure to the alcoholic substance caused me to associate beer with frat boys and parties. I didn't even have time to announce my presence; he turned around before I could reach him and directed his full attention toward me.

"It's about time my _favorite_ lady got here," he pushed one of the glasses of dark, frothy liquid across the surface of the table toward me before picking his own glass up and bringing it to his lips. "Now, I think we need to go get comfortable, and you need to tell me _all_ about your time abroad." He took my hand and began to lead me to a booth; I barely had time to grab my drink before he pulled me away from the bar top.

Once we chose a table and I sat down, Izaya took the seat across from me and spoke again. "So, tell me, are Americans really as fat and lazy as they look in the movies?"

"That's really the first thing you ask?" I laughed before taking a ginger sip from the tall glass of beer. The taste was rich and pungent, this coming from somebody who wasn't even a huge fan of beer.

"I'm probably never visiting the U.S., so this is me trying to live vicariously through you," he spoke in a joking manner as he shrugged before draping one arm over the back of his side of the booth.

"Well, I guess not all of them are," I humored his silly question, opting to offer a thoughtful response. "In fact, I'd say most of them have an attractive quality unique to Americans."

He smirked. "You say that almost as if you met someone special over there."

I burst into laughter at the obvious way Izaya was trying to corner me, almost painfully spitting beer from my nose. "You haven't changed one bit, Izaya." I paused for a moment as I recomposed myself. If I avoided this and didn't give him a straightforward answer, there was a good chance he would just keep pestering me about it. "To be entirely honest, there was never anybody else. I did go on one date with one of my TAs in my third year, but nothing came of it."

"A _teaching assistant_?" Izaya repeated incredulously in an interested tone. "Little Michi, being scandalous. I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Yeah, so scandalous that he almost failed me," I giggled at the silly college memory, grateful that nothing had come of our one date, and even more grateful that I worked hard enough to pass the laboratory. At the time, the guy was pretty offended that I didn't wanna go out with him again, and having to see him in lab once a week for the remainder of the semester with my grade resting precariously in his hands was nerve-wracking, to say the very least. Needless to say, I learned my lesson and stayed away from dating the rest of my time in school.

"I'm actually surprised you agreed to join me tonight, Michi," Izaya leaned forward onto the tabletop and laced his fingers together. He tilted his head downward but fixed his gaze expectantly on me. "Does this mean I have a chance now?"

This time, I did feel a sharp burning sensation in my nostrils as beer spilled from my nasal passages with a loud _snort_. "Is this you admitting that's the only reason you asked me out tonight?"

"Nonsense, I asked you here to catch up after all these years," he continued on his beer before leaning back in the booth once again, reassuming his relaxed posture. "Nevertheless, I'm a man who knows what he wants, and I've gotta do what I can to escape the friend zone."

I shook my head but continued smiling. "Sorry, but that's never happening."

"Come on, Michi," he coaxed, that sly smile never leaving his face. "You've never given me a fair chance. I don't think you've ever even seen me as a real man."

"You're barking up the _wrong_ tree, Izaya," I smiled in response, but my polite expression betrayed my warning tone. Not that I expected him to heed my words anyway. Izaya never was one to back down from a threat.

"Is it because you're still hung up on _Shizu-chan_?" I can honestly say I was a little surprised that he still called him by the same nickname he did in high school. Of course he and everyone else still called me 'Michi,' but that was because it was much less of a mouthful than 'Michiko.' 'Shizu-chan' was just plain childish.

I hesitated and broke eye contact, scoffing as I looked down at the surface of the table. "I'm not even gonna have this conversation with you right now."

"So you _do_ still have feelings for him," Izaya had a way of prodding and salting wounds and _enjoyed_ doing it; that much hadn't changed. It's not that I expected more maturity from him, he was easily living up to the person I predicted he'd be so far, but I guess I had assumed that his conflict with Shizuo would have died down after all these years. What more is there to fight about after high school anyway?

"Don't make me laugh," I _was_ going to avoid this if I could. My relationship with Shizuo (or rather, lack thereof at this point) was none of his business. "He's a stranger now."

"Have you seen him since you came back to the city?" He continued drinking casually, but I knew he was gauging my body language and response. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing I still cared for that asshat.

"Briefly," I told the truth this time as I recalled the awkward incident at Russia Sushi. "He wouldn't look at me for more than a couple seconds, much less talk to me." I tried to sound indifferent, as if it didn't really bother me, but I knew there was still a strong sense of bitterness in my tone.

"Well, I may not be the strongest man in Ikebukuro," as Izaya started comparing himself to Shizuo, I knew before he could even finish his sentence that it was going to be a loaded statement. "But surely you agree that I deserve a little more credit than someone who's treated you like that."

I laughed at the straightforward nature of his implications. I took a little bit of comfort knowing I still had the ability to predict Izaya. "My heart belongs to my research," I explained truthfully, trying not to sound like I was only making an excuse for myself. "It's nothing personal; if I were at a point in my life where I was capable of dedicating sufficient attention to a relationship, I would give us a chance." It was a lie, but he wouldn't be able to tell. In any case, I tried to look at the bright side and admire his strong persistence. "Ask me again in a couple years."

"My, modest as always," Izaya chuckled sarcastically. "Nevertheless, I don't mind waiting in the friend zone while you finish school." He set his almost-finished pint of beer on the table before looking me dead in the eye with the most serious expression I'd ever seen on his face. "Wait for me, will you?"

I was slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in mood. Izaya was never one to take situations seriously, so the deliberate, humorless look in his eyes was extremely sobering. The only thing that could have made the situation even more awkward was if he had made a bold decision to make some sort of physical contact with me, such as reaching across the table and taking my hand. I was thankful he hadn't, and tried to sound nonchalant in my response. "We'll see about that, Izaya."

I'd like to say the topic of Shizuo was the elephant in the room, and somewhere deep down, I _knew_ Izaya wouldn't have been able to resist bringing him up. Izaya had never been one to beat around the bush; in fact, he took particular interest in drama and juicy gossip. But once Shizuo was out of the way, the rest of the night went well. We talked for hours about my time in school. I think I even managed to surprise him with some of my stories of tagging along with my roommates to wild parties, even if I wasn't the type to wake up with a hangover in the morning, at least until my last year when senioritis hit pretty hard. People came and went from the bar, and Izaya and I went through a few drinks over the course of conversation. The night rolled on, and I started feeling _pretty good_.

It was getting late, so we departed East Side and took to the street. Izaya offered to walk me home and in my tipsy state, I decided that having a man escort me through downtown in the late hours of the night wasn't such a bad idea.

"I've never seen you tipsy like this, Michi," Izaya grinned at me as I stumbled clumsily down the sidewalk. "It's cute."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I frowned and wagged my finger at him. I was determined _not_ to make a rash, drunken decision to invite him into my apartment. Alcohol did decrease my self-awareness and cause me to crave the closeness of another human though. I just needed to ignore the voice in my head wondering how large Izaya's cock was, and how he would compare to Shizuo between the sheets. I was ashamed of my drunken self for having such thoughts. I was just _so horny_ though. Judging by Izaya's straightforward behavior this evening, I bet I could have had him in my bed that very night. The idea of getting fucked for the first time in five years was enticing, to say the very least.

As the world swayed back and forth in my vision and I felt Izaya's hand on the small of my back, steadying my movements, I tried to distract myself from my libido. It didn't take long, however, for the situation to become so awkward that any sexual instinct I had to deteriorate.

" _Izaya!_ " A familiar-sounding drawn-out pronunciation of my friend's name caused us to stop in our tracks on the sidewalk. I cringed and felt my body tense. We turned our attention to the direction the voice had echoed from, and Izaya smirked, clearly amused at what was about to happen. Shizuo's tall blonde figure emerged from around the corner, a block or so behind us, heaving a large vending machine over his head. "Get the _hell_ out of Ikebukuro!"

As Shizuo flung the heavy piece of machinery in our direction, time seemed to slow and I couldn't help but feel this was just like my first day of class at Raijin.

At this time, I was silently grateful that Izaya was not inebriated and therefore far more nimble than I. Without thinking or visibly concerned in the slightest, he quickly snatched my wrist and pulled me to his chest. I narrowly missed being crushed by the vending machine, feeling the _whoosh_ of wind as it flew behind my figure.

"Your aim's a little off tonight, _Shizu-chan_ ," Izaya taunted in a sing-song voice, emphasizing the nickname Shizuo had grown to hate so much as he approached us at a heavy sprint. "You could have injured our dear little Michi with that stunt."

At those words, Shizuo came to a stumbling halt a few feet from us. It was apparent that he hadn't recognized me from the distance at which he threw the machine in Izaya's direction. My eyes were still fixated downward on Izaya's chest; I didn't _dare_ look at Shizuo and I wasn't sure I wanted to look into Izaya's eyes at this close proximity either. I felt Izaya let out a short _huff_ of an amused laugh at Shizuo's reaction before tightening his grip around my waist. "Good thing _I_ was here, huh?" I felt his breath hot on my face as he turned his attention to me and made an exaggeratedly slow show of taking a strand of my hair between his fingers and tucking it gently behind my ear for Shizuo to see.

Feeling bold, I slowly turned my gaze to Shizuo. It had seemed that Izaya had gotten just the reaction he wanted out of provoking Shizuo with the tender gesture; if looks could kill, Izaya would be dead. The butterflies of flattery fluttered in my stomach for a split second. I confess myself embarrassed for wanting Shizuo to be jealous. I wanted the next words out of his mouth to be something protective, something along the lines of ' _don't fucking touch her!_ ' or ' _get the hell away from her!_ ' Unfortunately, this was not the case.

"If _you_ weren't here, there'd be no reason for _me_ to be here either," he retorted before standing up straight. _Ouch._ There it was. The implication that I meant nothing to him.

"That was a little cold, Shizu-chan," Shizuo winced at the use of the nickname, struggling to retain his composure in the face of his least favorite person. "But if that's truly the case, then you won't mind if _I_ start courting our little college graduate." He pulled me closer to him and I felt his breath hot on my face again.

"Knock it _off_ , Izaya," I pushed away from his hard chest and he released me with a playful smirk. As much as I craved Shizuo's envy, Izaya was laying it on way too thick for comfort. I glanced at Shizuo, who reached for the stop sign next to him, crushing the metal pole in his hand as he pulled the structure effortlessly out of the concrete with a loud _crack_.

"I will _crush_ you, you fucking parasite," Shizuo growled as he stalked toward us at a menacing walking pace. Izaya grinned in pure enjoyment, thrilled to have coaxed a violent reaction out of him.

"Well, Michi, I do hate to cut this short," Izaya paused as Shizuo reached us and lunged forward with the intention of impaling the tall, dark-haired tease. He dodged gracefully around my figure before snatching my hand. "I'll catch you next time." He kissed the back of my hand and winked at me before Shizuo exclaimed in frustration and swung at him again. I winced, preparing myself for pain in case he missed, but none came. I underestimated Shizuo; he had always been careful not to hurt me or any other bystanders when faced with a close-quarters confrontation with Izaya. However, Izaya quickly dodged just out of the blonde's reach again before turning and sprinting away, laughing maniacally at the scene he'd caused and the reaction he'd elicited from the strongest man in Ikebukuro. I half expected Shizuo to fall for the taunt and give chase, but to my surprise, he sighed heavily and dropped the street sign on the sidewalk.

Oh God, what should I do? Was I supposed to turn around and keep walking like nothing had happened? Should I say something? I was frozen and felt incredibly awkward. Shizuo reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. He lit his cigarette in the silence that followed without so much as acknowledging my presence. I wanted him to be somewhat angry with me, anything but this horribly uncomfortable silence. My vision was still dizzying, that in addition to the amount of anxiety I felt in the face of this situation was making me feel incredibly nauseous; I opted to focus on his handsome features, hoping the details would distract me from feeling like I wanted to vomit. His broad shoulders heaved up and down as he took a long, calming drag on the cigarette. For a split second, I felt a strong urge to close the distance between us, to grab him and relieve my sexual frustration. It was much stronger than the (mostly) alcohol-induced attraction I had very briefly felt toward Izaya. It was, however, _very_ short-lived.

"You need to stay away from Izaya," Shizuo finally broke the silence as he turned toward me, but kept his eyes closed as he took another long drag on his cigarette. I just _knew_ he was avoiding looking directly at me on purpose, as if to make our exchange less personal. And if I was being completely honest, it really pissed me off. Leave it to Shizuo to open his snarky mouth and destroy any sexual attraction I had toward him. I wasn't sure whether I should be relieved or upset that I found myself wanting to smack him instead of jump his bones, so I opted instead to let it fuel my anger.

"I can't believe you actually have the audacity to tell me who I should and shouldn't be associated with," in my somewhat tipsy state, I decided not to censor my cheeky retort. "I didn't care about your distaste for Izaya when we were _together_ , so you can bet your ass I don't give two shits about it now."

"Have you been _drinking_?" He glanced at me and squinted, but not for very long.

"What's it to you if I have?" I came back without missing a beat.

He sighed and smiled as he looked up at the sky. It was a condescending smile that felt like claws digging into my skin, as if he was preparing himself to humor me. You don't understand, Michiko." With his newly-found knowledge of my subtly intoxicated state, his tone became somewhat harsher, but his voice and demeanor were still calm for the most part, despite the confrontational edge in my own words. "Things have changed in the last five years." He lowered the cigarette from the corner of his lips, but turned his eyes to the ground. "It's not the same high school playground bullshit anymore. Izaya is in with some dangerous people now."

"Why should you care if I'm spending time with a friend?" He was still looking everywhere _except_ me as he spoke, and it was _really_ getting under my skin.

"Well excuse me for feeling obligated to warn you about the dangerous nature of your _friend_."

At those words, something in me snapped.

" _Obligated?_ " I repeated loudly as I half-laughed incredulously at his use of the word. That was it. I wanted to hit a nerve now. I was beginning to think this was less about protecting me, and more about the preservation of his own damn pride. "You really wanna talk about _obligation_ right now?" I wanted him to fly off the handle. I wanted the satisfaction of knowing that I at least still had _that_ power over him. Maybe that made me sound like a controlling bitch, but I honestly didn't care.

" _Clearly_ communication with your significant other doesn't rank very high on _your_ list of obligations," it was a little progress, but not enough. I wanted to push Shizuo to the point where he would pull the lamppost we were standing under out of the damn concrete. "You just left me and the rest of your life behind."

I was stunned silent for a moment, almost surprised by his response. Was he really gonna hold my education over my head? "I _had_ to go," I just couldn't believe he didn't understand that. "You _knew_ college was always my dream."

"Did your degree teach you anything about being a _decent_ human being?" His words were ice cold. He was _guilting_ me for choosing to pursue my dreams, to lay a solid foundation for my future, over him. I knew I could have handled myself better than I did five years ago, but his words just didn't seem fair. "Or does your education qualify you to break more hearts? Which is it?"

" _Izaya_ came to the airport to say goodbye five years ago," I was frustrated. I didn't know what else to say. But to be entirely honest, I'd had more of a 'relationship' with Izaya than Shizuo in recent years.

"You were planning on leaving the country for _months_ before you finally told me!" He ignored my implication that Izaya had treated me better than he had.

" _Izaya_ called me," I snapped angrily, also ignoring his accusation. Two could play the blame game. I watched his fingers carefully, hoping he would snap his cigarette in half, the beginning sign of one of his violent tantrums.

"Jesus Christ, woman." Shizuo smiled sarcastically and shook his head at the heavily implied comparison of him to his least favorite human being, impersonalizing our heated exchange further with the use of the word _woman_ in place of my name.

" _Izaya_ asked how I was doing," I continued my assault on his character, choosing to ignore his offensive remark, but my eyes welled with tears at the way he continued to brush my emotional responses off as feminine nonsense. " _Izaya_ cared enough to keep in contact with me. I never heard so much as word from you! We never even formally broke things off!"

" _Izaya's_ wanted in your pants since before we were even—!" Right as I had thought I'd manage to escalate the confrontation and push his temper over the edge, he cut himself off, took a step back, and closed his eyes as he readjusted his sunglasses. "You know what? Whatever. I don't have time to argue about shit that happened five ears ago. You're right; if you wanna fuck around with Izaya, that's your own damn business. Have a nice life, Michiko."

I drew in a sharp breath, still trying to fight back my tears as he turned away from me and started walking in the opposite direction. I lost my temper in a last-ditch effort to make him turn back around. " _Fuck you_ , Shizuo!" I yelled after him so loudly that it caused passersby to jump in surprise. But he just kept walking. Not even so much as a small hesitation to retort to my cold words. If I had talked to him like that five years ago, he would have lost his temper and grabbed me by the wrist, refusing to let me walk away until I talked things out with him. He would have chased me to the ends of the earth to salvage our relationship, no matter what hurtful words I said to him.

As the realization that I didn't know how to get under Shizuo's skin anymore began to sink in, I suddenly understood that not everything in Ikebukuro had stayed the same.


End file.
